


Partners

by lovelyskies



Series: Absolute Perfection [1]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: ... eventually - Freeform, F/F, Rivals to Lovers, girls loving girls, what's better than this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-05-18 19:44:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyskies/pseuds/lovelyskies
Summary: Obtaining an idealized version of oneself can become a vicious cycle. Often shutting the world out, Emiliana lives in constant solidarity to cover her true, wrenching emotions. On the other end of the spectrum is Katrielle who can be best described as a hyperactive mind in continuous search for distraction. When Inspector Hastings confides in the two to solve a personal matter, these conflicting personalities must team up to solve a career-threatening crime. Along the way, they soon discover that the other party is not as different as once perceived. In fact, could they hold the key to unlocking each other's troubles?





	1. Chapter 1

The night prior still lingers in the air – the events, people remain in the fibers of memory. Yet, today is a new day. And so far, it is going to be greater than any yesterday for the wannabe-assistant, Ernest Greeves.

Thick fog rises from the rivers and floats onto the street. The sun’s rays shine brightly through the translucent haze making it easier for people of London to follow their morning route. Butchers in bleached-white uniforms stand outside drinking their last cup of coffee before switching over to a smoke.

Ernest travels down the street in a direction most are walking against. In his hand is a note with a few scribbles on it. His eyes are bright and full of energy. He was given a task – a task involving the lovely Katrielle Layton. Had he been dreaming of that wonderful woman last night? Well, yes. But this is no dream. No, he has an actual chance to impress the young mistress and prove his worth once and for all.

He knocks on the door to the detective agency and waits patiently for an answer. In his mind, he is practicing the lines to what will swoon Kat off her feet and into his arms. _“Is that a new outfit? You look as remarkable as ever.”_ No, no that’s not it. How about, _“My day just got a little brighter with you in it!”_ He can’t help but cringe at the last one. 

With no response, he decides to call out, “Miss Layton? Are you in there?” This time, he tries the handle. It opens with a soft turn, not much to his surprise. She always forgot to lock the doors at night. This makes Ernest worried. Very worried. What if some madman broke into her house?  Thoughts like this venture into his mind deep into the night. He is only able to drift away in sleep when he imagines himself saving her from whoever threatens to lay a finger on her.

Seeing it as one of these heroic moments, he takes a deep breath and walks inside. Once he enters, he calls her name once more, “Kat, it’s me, your assistant, remember?” He slowly creeps across the floor and through the back hallway. The entire house is quiet and still – he can’t help but quiver.  Suddenly, one foot closer to the edge of her bedroom, he hears…snoring? As he turns into the doorway, he sees sleeping beauty and one of her dwarfs Sherl - except that it is not the dog who is snoozing so loudly.

The bright morning sun shines through the curtain and gleams into the tranquil air. A streak falls upon Beauty herself and her wide gaping mouth. He lets a few moments pass watching her chest rise and fall. He would continue to gaze in awe if weren’t for a certain dwarf’s warning growl rumbling from the far corner.

Kat springs up from bed in an instant upon hearing the alarm of the dog. “Who’s there?” She squints and holds up her hand as a shield from the sunlight. “I’ll knock your teeth so hard you’ll choke on them!”

“Madam Layton!” Ernest panics with his arms hurling, “It-It’s just me! Your door was unlocked!”

“Does that warrant you to trespass?” Sherl yawns, “I’ll tell you I was in the middle of a pleasant dream.”

“Oh, it’s just you,” Kat flops back into the bed. “Close the curtains on your way out, will you?”

“But Miss Layton – I must intrude!” He walks over to the edge of her bed. “I was stopped earlier by Inspector Hastings and he gave me this note to give to you. I believe it’s of most urgency!”

“Why didn’t he just call instead of dragging you into it?” She moans, waving her hand for him to say what needed to be said and then leave.

His shoulders collapse. “He tried several times to reach you.”

“Did he? Well, what does it say?” She immediately jumps out of bed and grabs the note out of Ernest’s trembling hand – scanning its contents in a flash.  It is amazing how fast that woman can go from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. “Hmm, meet him? Must discuss private matters personally? Sounds important!” She stuffs the paper back into her assistant’s hands. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Before he manages a response, she pushes him out of her bedroom. “Your job is done. Now I must get ready to leave at once!” She slams the door behind him.

Ernest sighs and leans on his back – attempting to catch his breath. Kat swings open the door once more and remind him, “You should do the same, you know.” He is barely able to keep himself from tumbling backward onto the bed-headed detective.

* * *

 

“You cannot possibly expect me to – to,” the woman is rarely ever seen so shocked, so taken-aback, “to help _her?_ ” Emiliana Perfetti stands from the small office chair and slams her green book onto the surface of the Inspector’s table (perhaps even leaving a dent.)

Hastings quickly shelters his body in defense. After the steaming woman takes a few puffs, he lowers his arms and regains his posture. “Er, well, yes that is what I’m implying.” He squints and looks away – unable to the lioness in her eyes. “But not exactly helping, rather,” he pauses before muttering, “team…together?’

Emiliana's eyes widen as she rises from her chair, takes her book, and turns to leave.

“Hey now! Where do you think you’re going?” Hastings swings around his desk and grabs her shoulder. “I thought we had a deal going!”

She turns and stares into the desperate eyes of the inspector then lifts his hand off her shoulder. “In bocca al lupo, Inspector.” Then, she throws his hand down, continuing her exit. Hastings sighs and rubs the back of his head, unsure what to do next.

Before she has the time to turn the knob, Kat bursts into the room with a giant green apple in her mouth. “Whwat ccan I.” She finishes chewing a piece and resumes, “What can I do for you, Inspector?” She walks over to the chair Emiliana was sitting in and plumps down into its cushion.

The dazed woman holds her book across her chest as she stands flat against the office’s side-wall. As her consciousness returns, she blinks several times before pushing up her glasses.

“Ah,” he chuckles, “about time you showed up! I was just informing Ms. Perfetti of a case we’ve gotten. He hands a beige folder over to Kat. “And, well, we need the both of you to combine your noggins and figure this mess out.”

She flips through its contents and throws it back on his table. “Why can’t you solve it yourself?”

“Exactly!” Emiliana imposes, “The woman gets it, for once.” Rather than snarking back, Kat acts as if she doesn’t hear her insults. She gets up and wanders over to the detective’s bookshelf.

“Because, it requires your strategy, Emiliana, and your courage Katrielle.” He motions over to the now empty chair. “Er, Kat?” Oddly enough, his first move is to look underneath the chair to see where the young woman now resided. 

“That is incredibly vague, not to mention idiotic,” Emiliana huffs.

Hastings returns to Emiliana. “I need you two to go over it, together. I’m asking that you trust me on this one.”

“Nonsense! You cannot trust an outsider with a case.”

“Katrielle here has done miracles for this department. I trust her enough, and so should you. I would expect more respect from you, that is if you weren’t jealous.” Hastings halts before speaking another breath. The room grows silent. Emiliana's eyes widen.

Kat turns back around and claps her hands – causing the two to jump. “Okay, okay I give up,” she giggles. Kat skips back over to his desk and picks up the file. “I was trying to act uninterested, but I do love a good mystery! Besides, it was fun seeing you squirm, Inspector.” She flips through the pages once more.

“I,” Emiliana proclaims, “am not jealous of a shamefully lucky girl. Although I may be slightly jealous of how she gets treated around here. And for what? She has done nothing to prove her worth.” She stomps over to Hastings and stands within breath distance. “I will expose her for who she is. And finally prove who _I_ am,” she grits through her teeth. 

The other woman interrupts Kat and drags her out of the room with an iron grip. 

“This wasn’t meant to be a competition,” Hastings sighs and rubs his temple after the women disappear into the lobby. “If only they could get along. They could become something.”

* * *

 

“Let me state my ground rules.” Emiliana tosses Kat like a trash bag when she reaches the entrance of Scotland Yard. Uniformed men pass by the women without a second glance – too afraid of the crime analyzer and what she may do to them. “Simple enough that even you can understand: I do not need assistance now, nor will I ever. Clear?”

Kat’s arms fly in circles as she stumbles to keep her balance to avoid plummeting down the concrete stairs. “Everybody needs help sometime.” She hops down the set of steps before continuing, “I’m sure you didn’t get here by yourself.” She travels down the path to grab her bike, still listening.

Emiliana catches up but with a more elegant gait, “There is a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Huh?” Kat turns but is unable to see the woman’s expression with the sun’s rays.

“Come now, there isn’t a moment to waste.” Emiliana continues down the street without checking on her partner.

“Hey! Wait up!” Kat runs up while holding onto the handle of her bike. “What are we doing? Going to the scene of the crime?”

“Scene of the crime? Tell me, what is the crime we are investigating?” Emiliana pauses for a response. The other party stumbles and scratches her head after a moment’s thought. “Exactly. First, we must look at the details. I must say I found it very odd that Detective Hastings refused to give any specifics.”

“I know! It means it could be anything. Exciting right?” Kat claps her hands and envisions some of the several possibilities behind his actions.

“Unnerving.” 

* * *

 

“This is your house?” Kat gasps when she reaches the doorstep of a Victorian style home stuck in the middle of a line of similar style houses. 

“What about it.” Emiliana unlocks her door with a thick bronze key. Kat pushes through as the other removes the key from the lock. She gasps as its interior. “Haven’t you seen a clean home before?” Emiliana asks but receives no answer. Kat gazes at the tiled ceiling, then the grand wooden staircase. “I’m guessing no,” she answers herself. Emiliana enters and closes the door behind her. 

Kat stares at the glass chandelier hanging high above in the hall and twirls. “I guess it’s what I expected. Fancy - just like you.”

Emiliana sneaks by into the main study and plumps down on her olive-green sofa. She adjusts her glasses and opens the folder to the first page. A weight slamming down beside of her startles the living daylights out of her.

“Well, what does it say?” Kat leans over the frightened woman’s shoulder.

Emiliana coughs purposefully and turns her body to the right to allow more room. Kat continues to lean and lifts her head to where her nose points to the ceiling. Scanning through the pages with a person breathing down her back is nearly as impossible as it is irritable.

“Aha! So that’s what this is about!” Kat grabs the paper from her hands and stands up with her eyes sparkling.

“Hey!” Emiliana jumps. “Did I give you permission to -?”

“A personal matter,” Kat giggles, “no wonder he wanted this to be so hush-hush.” Kat scans through each page in a matter of seconds – throwing each completed page onto the floor.

Emiliana drops to the ground and gathers the flying pages. “Be careful! Those are official documents I’ll have you know!” Suddenly, just as they started falling, the pages stop.

“Hmm,” Kat ponders while pacing around Emiliana, “Scotland Yard has been compromised. Yet, not a threat to the entire agency – just Hastings himself.”

“What?” Emiliana perks up, still shuffling the papers in her hand, “Mr. Hastings?”

“Yes, John Doe here has uncovered some dirt on Hastings. To remain silent, he demands that…” Kat pauses while her back is turned away.

“Demand what? Is he in danger?” She panics, fearing the worse.

“No, but his career is.” Kat smirks as if catching the whiff of an embarrassing secret.

Emiliana gasps and looks down on the first crinkled paper – a typed note, perhaps a ransom?  She continues reading:

_I regret to inform you that I have received word of your little, shall I say, flaw. If such word got out of this embarrassment…well, I’m not one to speculate. I trust you will make the right decision and put the people of London first and yourself second. Leave while you can. Before I force you to comply._

 “Someone is jealous of Mr. Hastings’s success.” Kat swirls around and grins. “Sounds familiar doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean by that?” Emiliana huffs.

“Oh, I’m just kidding,” Kat halfway lies.

“This is no joking matter!” Emiliana returns to her stance and slams down the stack on the table. “How can you kid in a time like this?”

“I’m plenty serious,” Kat walks out of the living room leaving Emiliana speechless. “Do you have any snacks? This may take a while.”

“Where are you going? Other than my kitchen, that is,” Emiliana hurries to the hall but sees that Kat has already made way into the heart of her home. “Don’t tell me you already have a plan based on one note?”

“Did you not read the rest?” Kat scoots a chair and stands on top of it – opening a cabinet above her sink to look inside. “Hastings left us some clues. Whether he meant to or not. Aha!”

“What is it?” Emiliana rushes over and leans on the chair. “Did you figure out something?”

“I was wondering where you hid the cookies.” Kat steps down with a large box in her hands. She opens the package and begins chomping away. 

“Oh, for crying out loud woman!” Emiliana rubs her temple and scorns underneath her breath. When she looks back up to find no Kat, rather, a trail of cookie crumbs. “Where did you-?”

Kat pops her head from behind the doorway. “Coming or not?”

“Com-coming? Where are we going?” She rushes out the room to find her door wide open.

“C’mon!” A voice hollers from outside.

Kat wraps her leg around her bike and nearly topples over on the other side. She quickly balances herself and fixes her headband.

“If you think I am coming near that death trap you are beyond mistaken.” Emiliana locks the door behind her.

“Aw,” Kat giggles, “guess you’ll be walking. Good luck keeping up with me.” She places her right foot on the peddle.

Emiliana panics and runs to stop the woman from speeding off. “Where are you intending on going?” She grabs the handle and holds on for dear life.

“Someplace far away. By the time you get there, it’ll be tomorrow afternoon. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Emiliana places her boot in front of the tire. “Move.”

Without another word, hiding back some snickers, Kat nudges forward. Emiliana gracefully wipes the bottom of her skirt, then the seat, before sitting adjacent.

A beat.

“You want to survive this ride?” Kat asks, leaning her head forward, preparing for what’s ahead.

“What?”

“Better hold on.”

Gravel flies in the air. Smoke rises from the back tire. Pedals whirl.

Emiliana shrieks and wraps her hands around the rider.

“Don’t worry,” Kat yells, competing with the wind, “I know what I’m doing!”

The bike races down the road – zooming past cars and people alike.

“Are you entirely sure about that?” Emiliana mumbles through her shirt.

They soon approach a hill. Instead of slowing, the bike only accelerates.

 Kat lets go of her legs and lets them fly in the wind. She cheers widely. Emiliana stuffs her face into her back, her eyes glue shut.

Whether she likes it or not, she was in for an adventure.


	2. A Manifesting Infatuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The high-pressure pursuit to solve the Inspector's personal case continues. Despite these stresses, the troubling case is least of the detective's worries. Kat's depth and complexity of her feelings heighten to inescapable levels. As she realizes her feelings for the other woman, Kat falls ill to what can only become personal sabotage.

About a half hour passes before Kat screeches to a halt in front of a long and narrow driveway. Her partner remains – face glue to the back of her dress. For a moment, Kat rests. She turns back to see a mess of deep brown hair blown into a bird’s nest. She chuckles quietly to herself before bursting out into laughter, nearly causing the bike to topple over.

“You should see yourself,” Kat snickers, “your hair looks like a mess.”

The once proper woman slowly unglues herself from the other, shaking. “H-huh?”

“Never mind, we’re here.” She kicks the stand in place and steps off the bike. Emiliana follows in the other’s footsteps – still in a tight embrace. Kat feels the tight pressure mounting in her stomach. Did she realize where her hands were…? Her face reddens upon the thought.

As if reading her mind, Emiliana slowly removes herself and takes in her surroundings. “Where are we?” she asks, adjusting her glasses.  

Kat watches her walk ahead before snapping back into reality, “Oh – th-this is Mr. Hastings house. His wife shouldn’t be here and he’s still working so…”

“Are you insane?” She asks, yet again. Does she not already know the answer to that? “Do you plan on breaking into his home? Better yet, how do _you_ know where he lives?” Part of her is surprised by her wide range of material on her superior, the other jealous.

“Well, I am one of his most trusted detectives. I suppose it’s a given I have that information.”

“That or you followed him home one night.”

Kat shrugs. “Does it matter at this point? C’mon, let’s see if we can find something out. I’m sure he’s hiding something that would be useful to us.”

“This isn’t right – without his permission.” Emiliana gasps and whispers to where no one can overhear, “This is _illegal_!”

“ _And?”_ Kat continues prancing down the path, humming a delightful tune.

“You get back here!” she hisses. She stomps her foot as her shoe pretends to put out a smoke.  

As Kat approaches the front door, she first picks up the welcoming mat. No dice. Of course, it would be too easy if the couple had left a spare key hidden in plain sight. Then, she tries the obvious option – the door. But, there is no satisfactory click. “Well, drat,” she huffs and places her hands on her hips.

“Don’t tell me you thought that would work,” Emiliana snarks from a distance. “I’m leaving before you make a bigger fool of yourself.” She turns and grips the handlebar. Before she can lift her leg over the bar, a noise interrupts her. 

 _Crash_!

“Wha-what the-?”

It seems Kat found her own way through the cracked window – her body dangles between inside and outside like a seesaw.

Emiliana drops the bike upon the pavement and rushes over to the window. She struggles to catch hold of Kat’s flying legs without being hit in the face. “Uncongenial!” she yells. For whom the insult is for, however, remains unclear.

“Oh,” Kat moans, pulling her upper body, “I shouldn’t have eaten all those cookies.”  Her body droops after a few moments of intense struggle. “I _may_ have gotten myself into a sticky situation,” she admits.

“You think?” Emiliana batters, out of breath. “Now, there is only one way this is going to work – hold still and pull while I push you from behind.”

“You’re…” Kat begins, “going to help me?”

“Well, I must say, as much pleasure as it would be seeing you getting caught like this, I agreed to help you.” She grabs both of Kat’s legs and begins to push inward, “Besides, I would be the one that would get in trouble.”

For a moment, Kat is taken aback. Once again, finding her face to be glowing.

“Are you going to pull, woman? Or am I going have to do all the work myself?”

“Ri-right!” Kat places her hands on the sides of the walls and pulls her body up. Both women groan as the tension between body and window eases. Then, like a pop of a champagne bottle, the woman releases – causing her to plummet onto the kitchen tile.  She lands alongside some pots that fell when she first attempted to venture in.

“Ah!” Emiliana gasps. “Are you hurt?” She peeks through the window.

Kat rubs her head and nods. “Yeah, I think so,” she replies. The blinding, effulgent afternoon sun blazes onto her scratched face. When the young woman opens her eyes, she is only able to make out black dots circling around an endless void of yellow. Soon a figure with a glowing shadow emerges from above and slowly down into the room. The sun causes a backlight – hence, she can not distinguish the emotions of the towering woman or even the color of her dress.

“Are you sure of that?” Emiliana, clearly shaken, asks, “I beg to differ.”

Kat feels something at the top of her forehead. She lifts her hand to grip whatever it is. Her hand meets that of Emiliana, patching up a small wound. 

“It is just a scrape – the forehead is notorious for excess bleeding,” she remarks, much calmer than before. “You aren’t in any pain, correct?”

Kat’s irises widen in diameter. She stares at the woman so fixated on her – her – and making sure she’s safe. Time slows. So much so that Kat had not even heard the question.

What is this feeling?

It’s…so warm.

Having a body so close to her own.

She can feel the other’s bated breath.

Maybe if she herself were breathing, the other could feel it too.

Emiliana's eyes wander onto Kat’s gaze. She stops stroking. Perhaps she, too, got lost in time.

Then, they both snap back into place.

Emiliana drops the handkerchief and allows Kat to catch a grip of it. She takes a few steps back and coughs into her fist. “We better get a move on. It is uncertain when the inspector’s wife will return. We can’t afford any more childish mischief on your part.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Kat agrees, disappointed.

“Of course I am.”

The two spent the greater half of the afternoon carefully sorting through their belongings. Not to dive into anything too personal. This is of Emiliana's request, of course. Knowing such private details could ruin a working relationship after all. The bedroom is strictly off limits.

As the sun’s rays begin to glow a much deeper and darker orange, the two decide to call it quits without any tangible piece of evidence, a shred of evidence. Emiliana, with her photo memory, steps back and makes sure everything is how they found it – including the kitchen pots hanging above the window.

This time, the ride goes much smoother. There is no traffic to maneuver or steep hills to race down. Inside, the two can enjoy the warm summer breeze. After a while, Emiliana even loosens her grip and can watch the city streets pass by.

They agree to meet again tomorrow morning. Regardless of almost never waking earlier than ten, Kat agrees to meet the other at nine – promising not to be tardy.

* * *

By the time Kat reaches her own home, it is nearing dusk. Despite what she remembers, the lights remain on. She fumbles into the door unexpectedly after assuming the door is unlocked. It’s always such a hassle to find her keys. I mean, that’s why she has a guard dog in the first place. To keep watch and be her lock. Sherl could bite the face off any criminal. Given the chance, of course.  

When she finally discoveries her keys and unlocks the door, she finds Ernest snoozing on the couch. Has he been there all day? At least, when he got done with all his chores, that is.

She can’t help but laugh seeing his normally perfect hair now bed-headed.

Should she kick him out?

Or let him stay the night?

She ponders, then notices Sherl curled up at the man’s feet. She couldn’t disrupt Sherl, could she? Rather, she tip-toes into her bedroom before turning off the house lights and shutting her door. 

Throughout the night, Kat tosses from one side to another without a wink of sleep. Checking her alarm clock obsessively – she is determined not to sleep past her da – _meeting –_ with Emiliana. Her mind replays the day repeatedly like a video stuck on an endless loop cycle. But this is one movie that would never get old.

There it is again – that _feeling._

Her chest feels almost ten pounds lighter.

Although Emiliana is almost surely studying the notes the inspector gave them, digesting each line with heroic effort, Kat could not care less about the case. Awful to say, yes, but the truth nonetheless.

How could she?

The only importance of the case is that it keeps Emiliana alongside her.

Almost like…a _partner_.

Kat clutches the pillow stuffed tightly in her arms and digs her face into it.

_A partner._

The very thought made her beyond giddy. Not to mention foolish.

But was is to happen after the case is solved? _That’s it. No more partnership? Back to being snubbed?_

 _No,_ it is far too early for that.

As far as Kat is concerned, this is to become a cold case. Whatever it takes to get a second longer with her partner.


	3. Sapphire Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emiliana begins to speak, but the words drown out. She looks up, seeing her mouth move, but unable to register the words.  
> Very few observed Em’s fierce sapphire eyes up close. Her doors rarely open to outsiders, with good reason. Now her barriers are down. No more walls. No more excuses.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you think I forgot about this fic! I just had to get some inspiration to finish <33  
> I'm working about three chapter ahead, so hopefully, I won't get behind this time lol  
> also, I love me some girls (⊙ω⊙)

“Mhmm,” Ernest rolls his head to the side, “Miss Layton. You don’t seem alright…” A line of slobber trickles down from his mouth and drips onto the damp spot of the pillow.

“It’s you that ain’t alright!” Sherl barks from the floor.

Ernest jumps from his deep sleep and rubs his foggy eyes. “Wha…? Sherl is that you?”

“Hmph.” Sherl curls up and slumps down onto the carpet. “Of course it’s me. Oh, and I’ll have you know I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.” He yawns – his bright pink tongue curls. “You and your _Kat this_ and _Kat that._ ”

“K-Kat!?” Ernest leaps in the air, suddenly remembering why he is sleeping in his crush’s home, to begin with. “Does she know I’m here?” His yelling quickly diminishes into a quiet hush as his cheeks turn bright red.

“Oh yeah, she knows. Well, I only assume from that blanket there.” He points his snout towards the blanket now puddled in the floor.

Ernest blinks twice before lifting the cloth to his face. That familiar smell, like pure cake batter, engulfs his senses. So pure, so sweet – indeed, Miss Layton was here. And, did she…put this on _him_? “I-I simply must apologize,” he stampers while quickly folding the sheet, “I am intruding on her own home in such indecent hours.” With the blanket now at the edge of the couch, he focuses his attention on his appearance – smoothing out the wrinkles in his dress shirt and spiking his hair. He could think about this act of kindness later.

“Go right ahead, be my guest.” Sherl circles in his bed, finding himself a more comfortable position. He plums down before continuing, “You won’t find her here.”

Ernest enters the edge of her bedroom and finds her room a complete mess – normal – but without the young lady snoozing. “What?” He calls. “Where is she then?”

“Who knows. I can’t keep up with her hijinks. Now, can you leave so I can get some rest?” Finally, it seems Sherl can catch up on last night’s sleep.

 His fingers gloss over the dent of the bed – still warm. _Did she just leave?_ The warm morning sun shines through her curtain, blinding him from the side of the room. _She never wakes this early._  His stomach plummets. _I have a bad feeling about this._

“Sherl!” Ernest exists her rooms and runs straight toward the door. He struggles to put on his winter coat while constraining these explosions of emotions. “I must find Miss Layton. I believe she is in calamitous danger.” Before the repeatedly-awaken dog can reply, the door slams shut.

…

A knock.

Five knocks.

Twenty-two knocks.

“ _My word!_ ” Emiliana swings open her door to find Kat, dressed in a bright orange and pink dress, standing with her closed fist still in the air. “Do you have any idea as to what time it is?”

Her fist stretches open and swoops to the back of her head. “Em!” she rejoices. “So glad to see you!” Without permission, she pushes her partner aside to enter her home.

Emiliana, still dressed in her nightgown, shuts the door behind her and lets out an enormous sigh. “I suppose when I said to meet in the morning, I should have specified _when_ in the morning.”

“Yup, your fault,” Kat giggles from the living room.  She spreads across the couch and takes notice of the pile of papers stacked high on the table.

“And what did you call me just now?” She follows, residing beside Kat, with her hands folded across her chest.

“Em - isn’t it cute?”

“Not particularly, no.” Em adjusts her already perfect posture. She brushes off the hair falling across her face.

She is still wearing her nightgown, her hair unkempt.

Kat swallows.

Em begins to speak, but the words drown out. She looks up, seeing her mouth move, but unable to register the words.

Very few observed Em’s fierce sapphire eyes up close. Her doors rarely open to outsiders, with good reason. Now her barriers are down. No more walls. No more excuses.

Those eyes glance once toward her solo audience then quickly revert to the documents. Kat's eyes dart the other way, then focuses on her shoe. They were flats - terrible for this time of year. Clearly evidenced by the paleness of her foot.

She slightly tilts the shoe, admiring its glossy surface. Did she buy them specifically for this moment? Hoping against all odds that Em would notice? That had been months ago when the weather was much more desirable.  There's already a small patch of red at the edge of her ankle. But that didn’t matter. All that matters is Em. 

"That's all I've managed," Em presses the cress of her nose.

Kat looks up - returning to reality.

"Nothing adds up. And I'm concerned it may be too late." She closes the folder and slumps back into the cushion - gripping her eyes shut.

For the first time, that morning Kat notices the bags underneath those elegant eyes. Her heart tugs. "What makes you say that?"

"By the end of this weekend, I'm sure this individual will have come through with his promises. My superior will be no more."

"Really?" Kat placed a hand on the other's shoulder. "You sound like his life is on the line." A small chuckle. One eye opens and looks into those caring and worrying eyes of Kat. Her glare pierces into her soul. Clearly, she doesn’t think this is funny. Kat squeezes her grip on Em's shoulder. "I know this is important to you,” her tone shifts, “We can solve this, together."

"Thank you," she replies earnestly. "I know his life isn't in danger - only his work. But to him, that's everything."

"Well, in that case," Kat stands, "we better get going."

"Going where exactly? It's the weekend, he is most likely home with his wife. I'd hate to intrude."

"Exactly right. We can go through his office while he is away. Perhaps something of importance is there. Something he doesn't want us to know."

"Are you implying we break into his office like we did his house?"

"While we're at it, we might as well." She exits the living room and into the foyer.

Em stumbles off the couch. "Now hold on, I'm not even dressed." She grabs her glasses sitting secured next to the papers.

"Hurry up, slowpoke. I don't have all day," she calls out while readjusting her hat in the mirror.

 

"It's not like you have important plans," Em grumbles.

...

They arrived at an empty parking lot. Like the outside, only a few souls wonder inside. Uniformed personal nod and smile to Em, who remains emotionless as the two venture down the hall. If looks could kill…

When they reach his office, his door opens with ease. There is no sign of life inside. Odd, considering the lack of a proper lock.

"What are we looking for?" Em breaks the silence. She gives one last glance outside before shutting the door.

"I donna know. Something important I guess." It seems the inspector and her father have one thing in common - the inability to keep their office clean. It's impossible to take a step without the worry of stepping on a pen or paper. Kat bends down on her knees to open the multiple drawers with papers sticking out each and every direction.

"I'm going to ignore what you just said." Em leans over his desk to get a glimpse of whatever the mad woman is up to. Her finger glides against a letter – opened – on his desk.

"Gah, what is this thing stuck on?" Kat pulls and pulls the bottom drawer. She shakes its contents and pulls once more. This time, it releases. "Aha."

"Have you..." Em starts.

"What? I can't hear you? I found some old receipts if that helps. It looks like he has quite the sweet tooth." Somehow, evidence of a purchase from a bakery ended up in the back of his office, of all places. Kat closes the drawer back in place and stands. "What did you find?"

"A letter."

"Oh-?" Kat leans forward and studies the paper. Her face pales.

"From you."

...

Her hand extends. "I don't remember sending him a letter," she chuckles, "remind me - what does it say?"

Em hands the letter to her partner. She grabs it a bit too forcefully. Her eyes scan it one line at a time.

"A thank you note. What for?" Em places her hands on her hips.

A sigh of relief. "You know what? I totally forgot. He, uh, helped me start up my business some time ago! Those forms, ugh." Kat crumbles up the paper and tossed it into his bin.

"You forgot about that?" She scorns.

"No, no. Just the letter, that's all."

"Alright," Em gives, not completely sold, "I suppose you are rather forgetful."

Kat fidgets with her hands, looking at the ceiling. Anything to avoid eye contact with the other. _Come on, where did he put that stupid thing?_

"This is intriguing," Em hums.

Kat jumps. "Yes?"

"It's an invitation." She holds up a golden envelope with a deep red stamp with the initial D. "Not opened."

"Well," Kat climbed on top of the desk, papers fly off with each step. Em steps back, shocked. "Let's open it, shall we?" She jumps down next to the woman and cheerfully takes the paper from her hands.

"Now hold on-"

Too late. Kat rips the envelope from the top. She throws the excessive on the ground and unfolds the letter. "Well, well, well. "

"What?" Em glances over the other's shoulder. Kat nudges forward causing Em to scoot alongside her.

"Bet you're curious, huh?"

"Now is not the time for your games, Kat," she huffs and grabs the letter.

"Hey, you called me Ka-"

 "It's an invitation to a ball. A rather extravagant one at that." Em readjusts her glasses. “Huh? I-It’s from Madame Doublée,” she gasps.

"I bet he had to kill for those tickets," Kat reflected out loud.

"Why would he toss it out then?" Hysteria begins to set in. Those who disappoint Doublée, well, it’s better left unsaid.

"Is there anything written on the back?"

"Huh?" Em turns the letter around. "How did you-?" She stops. There's a continuation from yesterday's threat, in a different handwriting from the invite:

_Do make plans to meet me by the garden at nine. We'll discuss your payments. Don't fail me, unless your career isn't worth much to you. Oh, and remember to wear formal wear, will you?_

"Did he not see this?" Em panics, clutching her chest. "Does he not know?" Her breaths become short, her chest rises and collapses like someone gasping for air.

"Hold on, Em," Kat places both her hands on her shoulders. "Look at me." She does just that. "We can do this. But you need to calm yourself."

Em takes a deep swallow. "R-right."

"Now, was there anything else in the envelope?" Kat releases her grip and picks up the tossed paper. She shakes its content. Two thick pieces of cardstock fall out onto the floor.  "Thought so."

"Well, what is it?" Although she's calmed considerably, her body still shutters.

Kat jumps up excitingly. "Oh, what should I wear? There are far too many options..."

"What are talking about woman?"

"Do you have any dresses? I could let you borrow one of mine! I have a mint green one that would match perfectly with your hair. Oh, your hair! It would look perfect curled." Her eyes sparkle, she clutches the invites in her hands, twirling around in place.

"Please, speak sense!"

"Oh, I forgot. They're two passes for the event.” She holds out the paper. “Don't you think we should go?"

Em takes the stock and glances over its text, "It's for a couple," she states.

Kat stops. "And?" She turns, feeling her face burning. "We could fake it."

Em deliberates.

"For the inspector,” Kat reasons.

After a long moment, she sighs. "We need to find out who this individual is. This may be our only chance."

"Uhhuh." Kat leans forward, running her hands together.

"I suppose...this is our best option."

Kat screams in laughter. Em blushes and turns toward the door. "Keep it quiet, will you?"

"Right," Kat whispers. "I forgot."

It's Em turn to burst out laughing. Seeing this, Kat can't help but follow. She has never seen the other laugh. She could never imagine her laughing so hard that tears flow.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Kat said, finally able to catch her breath.

"Yeah? It's only eight,” Em manages, still cackling, “the ball isn't till six."

"I was, erm, thinking." Kat leans on her tiptoes. "How about we go get some breakfast? I'm starving to death."

En rolls her eyes. "When aren't you starving?"

...

 

The bakery smells of flaky, buttery croissants. The morning rush has just begun. During the week, mostly workers came through the little shop. But, since it is the weekend, children come with their parents - drooling over all the goodies behind the glass.

The couple manages to grab a tall table near a window. Kat eyed the seats while waiting for the growing line. As soon as the guests stood, she struck.

"I've never seen a person move so fast over a chair." Em catches up and sets the bag on the table.

Kat's legs dangle as she hums seemingly ignores the comment. As soon as the brown pack is placed, Kat grabs it from across the table and digs into its contents.

Em chuckles and takes a sip from her coffee. She sits upon the dense metal chair and places her hand on her cheek - admiring the art unfolding in front of her.

Kat munches on a piping hot cream cheese danish. The sugary glaze drips from her chin and onto the table. To her, nothing else in the world matters except that pastry.

Em smile grows wide. Yes, this is partially revolting. But, in a way, it's kind of charming.

Suddenly, the gorging stops. Kat, in the little of licking the crumbs off her fingers, pauses. Em's smile fades.

"What is it?" No answer. Kat stares beyond the other - fixated to something. Em turns around.

Behind her sits a small girl grabbing the air around her with her small, pudgy hands. Beside her sits a young man with short black hair. He picks her up and sets her in his lap. He bounces her gently as she twitters with joy.

_Oh._

Em turns back to see Kat wiping her face off with a napkin.

In front of her sits the half-eaten danish.

"You must miss him terribly," Em mumbles.

Kat clasps her elbow and looks down at the floor. Her eyes burn. A lump forms in her throat. _Not here. Not now._

Just before the waterfall starts, she sees a familiar shoe step in her sight of vision. She looks up and sees Em with a caring smile.

She holds out her hand. Kat grabs ahold.

They exit, hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what does this mean? what will become of inspector hastings? WILL EMILIANA AND KAT WEAR MATCHING OUTFITS? tune in next time to find out!


	4. Choreography, or Lack There of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madame Doublée's festivities, much like herself, are larger than life. Two guests, Kat and Emiliana, enter the gates looking not to celebrate, but to investigate an ongoing threat affecting their own Inspector Hastings. This evening will surely bring surprises, love, and betrayal.

"You've gotten soft," Kat snickers. She hiccups, still struggling to hold back tears. What isn’t soft are those hands in her grasp. Deep cracks and ridges that mirror a mountain range. Compared to Kat’s hands which she applied lotion four times a day. Perhaps, like her heart, it just needed some TLC before it could reveal its smooth side.  
"Reflectivity, I suppose I have," Em snubs. Was that because she likes her? Or out of sympathy? "I may not the monster you think I am." The way she says this, Kat almost expects her to reveal a pair of fangs.  
"You're no monster, Em." Kat shakes her head.  
"You're the only one who believes that." The mood shifts. Her loneliness seeps through her despondent voice.  
Kat turns, trying to fathom the meaning behind that dishonest statement. She opens her mouth, but another voice overpowers.  
"Miss Kat?" Ernest calls out from around the street's corner. "Miss Kat!" He waves, heaving heavily. He has been running up and down every street corner near the agency in search for the young maiden.  
Oh no. Kat's grip on the other’s hand tightens. She can feel the color escaping her face. She covers her face with her open hand. Not here…not in front of her. How embarrassing!  
He jogs up toward the couple. Once there, he leans his upper body down on his knees. "I've," he exhales, "been looking for you," another deep breath, "all day!"  
Kat moans. It isn't on purpose, it just escapes somehow. "I'm fine," she grits through her teeth, "you needn't worry."  
"I can't help it, Miss Layton. After you came home so late and left so early... I'm terribly afraid that you haven't been yourself lately." He takes a cautious step forward.  
Her body spikes in temperature.  
Her heart beat rapidly accelerates.  
Her hand drops the other and forms a tight fist.  
She’s isn’t embarrassed anymore. This is well past that.  
"I told you," she yells, much louder than in her head, "not to worry!"  
In the distance, a baby breaks out in a loud wail. People glance over, some even stop to look.  
Ernest stampers, "M-Miss Layton...?"  
Em's eyes widen. She's never seen Kat so upset - seemingly at nothing. Perhaps the stress of the case is getting her as well? "Your friend has a point," she whispers, also afraid of her outburst.  
Kat grimaces. "What do you mean?" This also comes off harsh. Em takes a step back.  
"You aren't your over-the-top self. You're normally oozing with enthusiasm. Perhaps we both need some rest,” she tries to reason.  
"No," Kat argues. "I'm fine. I just don't like to be a babysitter." She glares at the man standing helpless. He jumps, now shuttering in fear.  
"Kat..." She turns back. "Get some rest. I'll see you tonight at the ball." Em raises a hand, signaling her departure.  
Before she can argue, Em walks away and disappears in the crowd. If she is to lose her because of him…  
Ernest shivers in his skin. What does he do? This isn't the Kat he knows and cherishes. The one he imagines spending the rest of his life with.  
"Must you always follow me?" She hisses.  
"Um, er," he stutters, not sure what to say.  
Kat paces to her friend. He gulps and puts his hands up, shielding his face.  
"You've made a mess. Nearly ruining everything." This is incredibly vague, but the words come unfiltered from her brain and through her mouth. She isn’t too sure of what she is saying.  
"What can I do to fix it?" Hot tears stream down his cheek. He refuses to look at Kat - rather, keeping his eyes shut. He has no idea what she is talking out but is willing to do whatever it takes to write it.  
"Leave me alone," Kat sighs, "just...leave me alone." She prevents her angry spewing out any more.  
Ernest nods furiously, his eyes still shut. This is his greatest nightmare, he refuses to look at it head-on.  
After a minute of pure silence other than street traffic, he opens his eyes.  
Miss Layton is nowhere to be found.  
...  
Sherl wakes to a door slamming. He holds up, barking, "Who's there?"  
"It's me," a somber voice replies.  
He doesn't recognize the tone. "Kat? Is that you?" He rises from his bed and walks toward the doorway. Sure enough, the young woman leans on the coat hanger. She makes a fist around the metal and places her head against the cold surface.  
Sherl struggles to think of some reply. Her eyes clearly suggest something painful is occurring. He coughs. She doesn't look up.  
Seeing that no words could help her, the dog lays at her foot. This is the key - Kat lifts her head.  
"I believe I lost a friend today," she agonizes. Sherl only looks, still confused. "My impulses have gotten the better of me lately." It has only been minutes, but she already feels regret.  
This time, Sherl replies, "Lately?"  
"Yeah," she chuckles. "Am I stupid or what?" Tears begin forming.  
Sherl's ears perk up. "What is the matter with you? I was beginning to think Stripes was the mad one."  
"Oh," she moans, "don't say that name."  
"Is this about Stripes?" His tail wags. "Don't tell me his the one who got himself into trouble? Impossible. That lad has never -" he stops. "Wait, you said you lost a friend..."  
She nods.  
Sherl's head turns. "What did you do...?"  
"I blew up in his face. I regretted as soon as I did but," she walks to the living room and sits at the edge of the couch, "I was embarrassed." She runs the right side of her cheek.  
"Embarrassed? Why is that?" Sherl follows into the room.  
"He follows me around like we're attached to the hip. I...was trying to make an impression with someone."  
Sherl growls, "Have you told him this?"  
"What? Why would I do that? It would break his heart."  
"Yeah? And you're not now?"  
Silence.  
"It's not fair how you're treating him. You know that as much as I do. It'll hurt when you tell him how you feel, but it's better than keeping the truth hidden."  
"When did you become an all-wise dog?" She laughs but knows this is true.  
"I'm anything but. I just call it when I see it." His snout points in the air.  
"Sherl?" She asks again.  
"What? You're interrupting my nap, you know." He turns and struts into the bedroom.  
"I think I like someone."  
He stops in his tracks. "In that case, you must tell Stripes. The sooner the better."  
He's right. Of course, he is.  
She knows what she should have done long ago when he first made advances to her. She thought she made it obvious enough; ignoring his endless compliments, never once returning the gesture.  
He needs to be told directly. Plain English. No matter how much it will hurt.  
Ernest is a friend - a good one at that. Telling him the truth, that she doesn't like him - or any guy for the matter, will destroy their friendship. She hasn't lied to him, per se, but it still feels like a betrayal.  
Kat looks in the standing mirror and sees a mess of a woman staring back. She really is an awful person, isn't she?  
She sighs and crosses her arms - squeezing her chest. It isn't over yet. There's still a chance with Em.  
A small smile. Em.  
Yes, even if she lost Ernest, she could still get Em. Knowing this does not heal the burn, but only soothes it. For the moment, at least.  
Her heart lifts, maybe even skip a beat or two. She couldn't lose this feeling. Not now.  
Looking back in the mirror, she instead finds a blank canvas. She needs a lot of work before tonight. The night she must prove herself worthy of a woman's affection.  
Ernest can wait till then, can't he?  
...  
Construction can now begin. Which dress coordinates best with Em - those lips perfect enough for a kiss, a voice, so lovely when calling her name. Nothing could size up to that.  
Rather, she decides on an open-backed dress as blue as the sea by night. It shimmers in the dim light - it will resemble a glass chandelier in the ballroom's blinding lights  
For her hair, she decides plain will suit best. No hats, no curls, she just lets it flow down effortlessly upon her shoulders. Her head thanks to her for the relief from the tight band seemingly glued to her hair.  
Her earrings dangle, icicles frozen mid-drip.  
Next, natural makeup, nothing spectacular. Just some powder and mascara.  
Her heels are tall and snow white. She struggles with heels considerably, but she must learn to balance. She can't dance in a pair of sneakers. Part of her wishes she could due to the pulsing blisters already formed on her ankles.  
As a finishing touch, she ties a cloth bracelet around her right arm. Mint green.  
She steps out of her bedroom. Awaiting outside is a certain judgmental dog.  
Kat smiles innocently before strutting past him.  
"Now where are you going?" He barks.  
"That doesn't concern you," she hums while admiring herself in the mirror. "Oh, If I don't make it home tonight, don't worry."  
"Wait for just a second-!" His tail raises.  
Too late. The door shuts.  
Sherl's tail tucks between his legs. "Who's gonna refill my bowl?"  
...  
A line of cars parks well past Madame Doublée's neighborhood entrance. This type of event is not entirely rare. That doesn't mean it draws considerable attention from all of London.  
Those who make the list are mostly public figures and celebrities, if not both. Someone like Kat, well, they don't quite make the cut without calling in a couple of favors.  
At the doorway stands a petite blonde woman. She can't be much older than twenty if that. She wears a long, conservative maid outfit. She checks everyone's invitation before they entire the manor.  
When Kat approaches, she squints and mumbles something.  
"Is that Miss Layton in the flesh?" When she gets closer, she continues, "I could barely recognize you in that attire!" She giggles, "You're adorable!"  
Kat can't help but eat her words up. She places a hand on her check, flirting, "Am I?" She hands her the invitation.  
"As cute as a button!" She checks it without even a glance. "Oh, but do stay clear of Madame's dearest. He just adores everything shiny."  
"Mhmm," she nods, not quite understanding. Who cares about the lizard?  
She continues down the path and up the grand staircase. From the doorway, the inside is just a light. So bright, she must put up her hand as a guard.  
Stepping inside, hundreds, dressing in similar fashion chat idly about stocks and their fortunes. A band plays holiday tunes, already past the sound check.  
Kat swallows. Where could she be? It's still early...  
"Kat!" A voice yells from across the room.  
She turns, smiling ear to ear. It disappears as quickly as it formed.  
Hastings, wearing a black tux, waves. "How's the case going?"  
"You-! You're, you're, not supposed to be here!" She stomps her foot.  
He catches up and scratches his chin. "I'm not?" Oh, I must have misunderstood when you said-"  
"That doesn't matter now!" She grabs his shoulder and turns him around. "You've got to hide."  
"Now hold on just a moment -" he stampers.  
"Kat? What on earth are you doing?"  
Em stands several feet away.  
She melts into her trumpet flared gown. It fits her form perfectly - skimming through her body and hugging her waist. With every step, the glare of her skirt swings from side to side. The color - mint green.  
She freezes. Hastings begins to turn but Kat pushes him forward. "Go," she hisses underneath her breath.  
"Kat...?" Like a mother, she can sense when her young are getting into trouble.  
Now, with Hastings dispersed in the crowd, she acknowledges her date. "Em, glad to see you could come! I was worried you wouldn't -" Her eyes register the other. The dress. Everything. "You're stunning," she gasps.  
The strangers become faceless shadows. The backdrop of the manor blurs out of focus. Her gaze awes at the beauty of her dress. She couldn't imagine a better one. Her fantasies were nothing like reality.  
Her eyes meet the other. They pause. Glue to one another. It seems like an eternity before either snaps back into reality.  
"You too," Em huffs. She looks the other way, her cheeks burning.  
"Know what?" Kat interrupts, changing the conversation, "I've been here several times and never knew there was a ballroom."  
"Of course there is." The old Em has returned. "Who do you think Madame Doublée is?"  
Kat shrugs. Nobody knows, even that stick of a husband.  
Like clockwork, the band stops. Whispers disperse in the crowd. Kat stands on her tiptoes in an attempt to see the fuss. "Can you see?"  
"No," Em states.  
"Well, c'mon then." Kat grabs Em's hand and pulls her into the audience. With every bump or 'Hey!' Em apologizes.  
"Kat," she hisses, "what are you doing?"  
No answer. Just a giggle.  
Finally, they approach the stage with one last push and a scorning glance.  
Madame walks up the few stairs to receive cheer from the audience. "Ha," she puffs, catching her breath, "I expected a warm reception but not quite like this!" More cheering. "I know all you dearies must be thinking: "Why on Earth is she throwing a party?" Well, I assure you it's all for charity. It may not be a charity you all are familiar with. But, I will say, I aim to heal a few lonely hearts tonight."  
A few awkwardly laugh, including Kat. Em squints. What does she mean?  
The lady turns back at the band. They all flinch. "What are you waiting for? Let's get this party started, shall we?"  
They immediately begin playing. The crowd murmurs amongst themselves.  
Whispers overpower the music. With such enormous ceilings, voices echo and bounce against every corner. People bump even more to escape the formation at the front.  
"Now what?" Kat yells.  
"What? I can't hear you." A couple crowds into the pair. Em shuffles uncomfortably as her chest presses against Kat's.  
She can't help but look down. Her throat feels dry. "I," she can only manage. She swallows. "I said now what?"  
"It's only seven. We still have half an hour." She glances over to the large clock hanging above the stage.  
"Why don't you say we make the most of it?"  
Em turns with a hesitant look. Kat smile grows wide. She one again grabs her hand and wedges her way through the crowd.  
This time, Em can't help but laugh. All these snobs can give her evil glares, what does it matter? Truly, she isn't here to impress. Maybe Kat is right - she needs to let loose.  
When Kat stops abruptly, Em nearly tramples into her. The other catches her before she hits the ground, her glasses slowly falling down her nose. She lifts her back up. "You alright?"  
She fixes her glasses. "Of course."  
"Good." Kat twirls her around. Em trips on her feet. "Shall we dance?" She copies the rich and elegant tone of her partner.  
Mocking. Her? No such thing. "Hmph," she pouts, "Not like that, no."  
Kat blinks.  
She sighs and removes herself from the other. "If you're going to dance with me, do it properly."  
"Properly?" Kat laughs nervously. "I, er..."  
Em rolls her eyes. "Must I do everything?" She grabs Kat's right hand and lifts it in the air. She motions her head to the side.  
Kat smiles innocently.  
"Your hands," she states and repeats the motion.  
"O-Oh!" Kat places her left hand on the other's hip. She barely contacts the over. More of hovering than touching.  
Like a smooth, evening wave on the coastline, Em steps to the side. Kat follows - eyes glued to the other's feet, nervous of one miss step.  
This is the least graceful waltz in the ballroom. It’s far too slow, clumsy, and doesn't match the music. But that doesn't bother either partner.  
As the moves follow suit, Em stares at the woman she holds - breaking a sweat, eyes twitching, mouth muttering. Pitiful. Weak. Kind of cute, though.  
A smile. What is about this woman that brings such emotion to Em? She never acts this...foolish in front of anyone. But all that melts away when Kat enters the room.  
"Kat?" She whispers.  
No response.  
"Kat?" Again.  
"Yeah?" She replies, still struggling.  
"Who are you?"  
Kat stops. She looks up.  
"Who am I?" Whatever does that mean – is it a riddle?  
Em nods. "With my line of work, it's embarrassing to say I have no idea who you are. Your beliefs, your thoughts, my mind comes up blank."  
A beat.  
Kat weighs her responses. Does she push? "Would you like to know?" She cringes. That was the wrong choice. She keeps her eyes shut, praying that Em would just ignore what came out of her mouth.  
A long moment.  
Kat is beginning to apologize when Em finally responds, "Very much so."  
She opens her eyes, in disbelief. "Did you say yes?"  
"My word, Kat. Does this answer it for you?" She grabs Kat's cheeks and brings her lips against the other, tilting her own head.  
Kat squeals. This is sweeter than any slice of cake she's ever eating. She could indulge in that curved lip every night without it ever getting old. Her racing thoughts, constantly judging every step, slow down to a crawl. Savoring every taste, texture, and feeling.  
Em’s cracked hands squeeze her cheeks, her cracked lips forcing themselves onto the other. It didn’t matter that London’s richest were in the room, surely watching and gawking at the sight.  
Em removes on hand, signaling the end of the invasion. Kat can’t have this. It can’t end now. It’s only just begun. She, in turn, grabs the back of her dark chestnut hair and runs her hair through her fingertips, bringing the body closer to her own.  
This lasts for a few more seconds. Em lowers her head, her nose brushing against the other’s lips.  
The person in her hands slips through her fingers. Em’s eyes, half-closed, soon widen in a panic. “What?” Kat asks, nervous that she somehow crossed a line, “Is there something on me?” She rubs her mouth, feels nothing.  
“We hadn’t forgotten, have we?” Her eyes dance around the room. The grand clock reads about 7:30. A short dong escapes, signaling the pass of half an hour. She quickly grabs the other’s hand and launches toward the French doors. Outside, there is only a soft glimmer of light escaping from the party inside. The rest of the garden remains in a cover of blackness. “Well,” she starts, catching her breath, “perhaps we’re not the only late ones.” She gains some confidence, then takes a step forward. A pull.  
“Wait,” Kat warns, “are you sure? This could be dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt.” She squints and can make out a large marble fountain, stalled.  
“I appreciate the concern, but it’s just as insulting as it is flattering.” Of course, she could handle herself. She’s faced some of the world’s worst criminals and made them cry for their mothers.  
Kat returns a nervous smile as an apology.  
A cool wind pierces the ever-growing landscape. Em shivers and pulls her coat tight across her chest. Kat turns and shuts the door behind her with a click.  
There would be no criminal mastermind present tonight.  
With a swirl of her heel, Em calls out, “We’re here. Now it’s time for you to come through with the deal.” A step forward, silence.  
Kat lets go of the door handle. “Listen, I need to tell you something.”  
The other quickly hushes her, “What are you doing?” She turns back around. “Come out with you. We aren’t waiting any longer.”  
“Em!” Kat stomps her foot. No more. It must come out. Now.  
What in the world is she thinking? Is she trying to scare off the blackmailer? As she turns once more, her eyes meet that of a familiar man staring from the doorway.  
“I-Inspector!?”  
Kat’s heart slumps. No! She isn’t quick enough. Em reaches the door and swings it open. The frightened man jumps.  
“O-Oh!” He stutters, “Is this not the way to the bathroom?” It’s obvious he’s been spying the entire night.  
“Have you seen him?!” Em grabs his shoulders, shaking them violently.  
“Who? What are you…?” Oh, right. Damnit! How can he fix this?  
Em stops. “What do you mean?” Her blood runs cold.  
“Er, of course, I know what you mean!” He laughs a little too much. “The, uh, blackmailer!”  
“Don’t,” Kat murmurs. Em spins around. Her necklace knocks onto her chest. She doesn’t dwell on this horrible feeling. To have her expression, looking so lost and confused, hurt, it’s torture. “Don’t lie for me anymore.”  
“Lie?” Em bellows, “Explain yourself.”  
Kat flinches.  
“I best leave you two alone.” Hastings returns inside. He gives a sorry glance to Kat – she lowers her head in reply.  
The door shuts.  
The two are once again alone.  
“Kat? I don’t understand. Is there or is there not a man-?” Her hand rests on her waist.  
“No. There is no man,” she somberly replies, “No blackmail. Nothing like that.”  
Em takes a step back. “What?” Her pupils expand.  
“It was my idea. I wanted,” she sighs, “I wanted to get closer to you. I knew you would never talk to me unless it was business.”  
“So what? Did the inspector agree to this…this nonsense?” A gasp. "Even Madame Doublée?" Wasting her time? Her energy? For games?! How could so many people betray her like that?  
“I begged them to play along. They both owed me a favor or two.” She says this like it matters.  
“Bullshit!”  
Kat gasps. She expected anger but not…this venom spitting out of her.  
“If you really cared for me, you would have never toyed with my heart like that!” Large tears form. “The Inspector is my supervisor – you know how worried I was? I couldn’t sleep for the entire invest-,” she stops, “it wasn’t even an investigation, was it?” She laughs, despite the tears flowing down her cheeks. “It was all some silly game to you. Should have known – you’re just a kid. An immature kid that refuses to grow up.” She swirls around and swings the door open.  
“Wait-!” Kat calls, following. “It wasn’t a game.” She catches the door. Its weight falls onto her hands.  
“Don’t follow me,” she hisses, rubbing her mascara stained eyes.  
Kat pushes the door and forces herself into the ballroom.  
Eyes glare. Whispers disperse.  
“Please,” she wails. Her hand extends – catching air. “Don’t hate me. I-I wasn’t thinking straight!”  
Em ignores her pleas. Dodging the crowd left and right. Her hand covers her red face, shaking.  
The high-heels that once danced so elegantly on the floor takes a wrong step onto her own dress. The dew from the garden outside dampened the fabric, weighing it down greatly. Her arms fling in the air – desperate to catch on something. And something it does – the table which contains what little entrees and punch fly off its cover and onto the woman.  
Plates shatter onto the floor. The bowl spills its contents onto the dress that took hours to perfect. The same dress she imaged swooping Em off her feet in. Now, stained red.  
She lands on her bottom – this time, surely bruising. She cries out. Her hands rise slowly, the liquid dripping.  
A group forms around the fallen woman. Whispering. Laughing.  
The band stops. Everyone looks toward the direction of the commotion. Everyone except Em, the only party member whose face is as red as Kat’s.  
“Are you alright, sweetie?” An elderly lady approaches.  
Kat blinks. She can’t see anything.  
A man runs up and gets on his knees. Hastings. “Are you hurt?” He grabs hold of her shoulders. “Did any glass get on ya?”  
She shakes her head, still in shock.  
He helps her up. The crowd mummers. No doubt this would be the town gossip tomorrow.  
“I’m taking she didn’t take it well?” He asked. Smartass.  
Her lips quiver. She couldn’t see the other. She had to have left by now. Maybe it was for the best.  
This time, she shakes her head. No, of course, she didn’t. What was she thinking?  
“C’mon, let’s get you out of here.” He helps her out of the mansion and to get some fresh air.  
…  
The front door shuts. Sherl’s ears pick up. A moment passes before a light is turned on in the living room.  
He trots into the room to find Kat drenched in some sticky drink. It almost looks like blood – she wouldn’t be alive if she lost that much. “Thirsty much?” He tilts his head.  
No response. She plumps down on the couch and covers her face.  
“Aren’t you worried you’ll stain the thing? Might as well, eh? You’ve covered everything else.” He sits in front of her. His eyes follow a trail of drippings from the front door, to the carpet, finally the couch. Then, a whine, “Kat…?”  
“Go away,” she mumbles, refusing to look up.  
“Did something happen?”  
“Go away!” This time, her hard look in her eyes transforms into something tragic. “Please, I don’t want to lose you too.”  
Not quite understanding, he leaves her alone once more. Suppose there would be no dinner tonight.


End file.
